


You’re With Us, Among Us

by SolivagantStories



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: (to lovers), Aliens, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, More like Red realizing she doesn’t really wanna kill everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantStories/pseuds/SolivagantStories
Summary: Red thought she could do this. After all, humans are renowned for their weird and violent ways. They were the boogeymen of the universe, used as bedtime stories to keep younglings from running off without their packs, or parents. One assassination mission should be easy.But then she learns their customs, integrates herself among them in order to be more effective. And doubt begins to set in.
Relationships: Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us), Kinda - Relationship, None for now, Subtly flirt into a romance, but Cyan and Red are hinted a bit, they’re looking for friendship and then just
Comments: 49
Kudos: 360





	You’re With Us, Among Us

There were two facts that only Red, out of all of her crewmates, believed. 

One: Humans were terrifying. 

Of all the species in the universe they were the outliers. The misfits. They were given a wide berth at all times, seen as flee on sight by most species. They were given their own pocket of a galaxy and left alone, with only the rumors of their bone-chilling ways left to travel the universe. 

They were known for their tendency to have wars, and to live in localized packs. They were also known for their weapon creation. 

They were known for being vicious. 

Which led into Two: They were strangely kind. 

She’d first realized this when she found out about a ritual that humans did that was meant as a show of affection. At first she’d thought it was a mating ritual, after all they were pressed so close together that in some cultures it’d be downright scandalous, but after Green had done it to everyone (including her, and oh god it was weird but also so, so comfy) one morning as a greeting she’d concluded it was a sign of platonic affection. 

One of the times she’d seen the ritual, Yellow had been panicky. She’d been breathing loud enough that Red had felt the need to flee, to get away from the aggressive human. Breathing that loud meant danger, meant that someone wanted her to know that they were about to hunt, and that they would enjoy it. 

But then Green, who, out of all of the humans seemed the most approachable (which wasn’t saying much) had walked forward and... wrapped his arms around Yellow? 

Red had almost blown her cover right then and there in the cafeteria. All she could think was danger, danger, he’s trying to suffocate Yellow, I’m next, then they’ll find out— But then Yellow relaxed into his hold and whimpered. A sign that Red could tell, even with their species’ gap, meant she was sad. And seeking comfort. 

So, yes. This ritual was confusing. But... It was confusing mostly because humans weren’t even supposed to have any comforting rituals. They were recorded as pack animals, of course, but it was implied that that was only as a means of survival. That they didn’t actually care about their pack mates. 

There were rumors of buildings specifically designated to hold abandoned human young, who grew up separated from a pack and surrounded by uncaring humans. Rumors of human young killing their pack mates before running off into the world, only to then meet the same fate by either others like them or by the strange authority figures of their planet. 

Red had grown up with these rumors. Her own caretaker had whispered her horror stories before nesting time, whispering that if she didn’t try harder to learn how to wield a weapon, didn’t try harder to be good, that they might just ship her off to Earth and let the humans dissect her. 

Eventually they had. 

There was a dissonance between the nightmares of her youth and the picture of Yellow curling into Green’s hold, face dripping fluids that Red had been told were tears. 

It made Red feel a strange sort of longing, and that night she’d stared up from the humans’ version of a nest and had remembered the feeling of Green wrapping his arms around her. The way he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, whispering a giddy good morning. 

It made her remember long days at her home planet sparring, and sparring, and sparring, until finally she was allowed rest. But not before they clamped her beak shut and fit her in her special outfit (it wasn’t a prisoners gear, it wasn’t) that prevented her from shapeshifting. 

Her species didn’t need physical affection. They didn’t even have mating rituals, or mating calls. They only had the authorities barking orders and weapons in their paws. 

So that was when she realized that maybe, just maybe, humans had the potential to be kind. 

And now here she was, side by side with Cyan, determinately keeping her head down. They were sitting at electrical and fiddling with wires. Everyone was doing their best to keep their living space up and running. Except Red. The imposter. The traitor that stalked their halls and hardly ever spoke to them. 

There were rumors, probably started by White and Orange, that she was mute. 

Cyan shifted, and she risked a glance at him, eyes never meeting his. He had paused in his work, hands held limply in his lap. 

“Hey, Red?” 

Red gulped from behind her helmet. She tried to make her body language unassuming, shifting her arms further from her sides, but she had no idea if that’s what humans did when threatened. Instead, she forced herself to still, hardly moving a muscle. 

“You...” 

Cyan had taken his helmet off long ago, ever since they had managed to stabilize oxygen. His eyes stared at her helmet, not quite at eye level. 

Red kept her helmet on. 

“You don’t have to keep to yourself, y’know.” 

She tilted her head to the right, trying to convey curiosity. In her culture back home every movement with the hands and head were designated a meaning. She’d had to unlearn it here. She didn’t exactly miss the long days of holding as still as possible, terrified that the slightest twitch would be seen as insubordination. 

She still used the language. 

“Is that so?” She asked, voice gravelly with disuse. It startled her, but she forced back the flinch. Her birth-kind didn’t speak like humans did, with noises from the throat. They made clicks and squeals that originated from the chest. Vocal cords were a human thing. 

It was one of the many human things she was confused by. Language. Why have so many for one planet? Many of the higher species had only one for multiple planets, in order to make trade easier. 

Humans certainly weren’t considered a higher species. 

“Yes,” Cyan replied, forcing her to pay attention to the present, “The crew likes you. Or at least, what little we’ve seen of you. You’re kind of a mystery here, always quiet or hidden in your room. Green especially wants to get to know you, but the others do too. I do.” 

If you were tasked with assassinating an entire colony of humans without them realizing aliens existed you’d be standoffish too. That’s what she’d like to say. Instead, she studied him. 

Cyan was one of the few packmates (crewmates?) that she actually talked to. Orange and White were too loud, and they bared their teeth too often to be friendly. Yellow was as quiet as her, so she didn’t see the need to talk. Black didn’t even try to talk to her, he had a tiny pack with Purple, so they were often too busy talking to each other to bother with her. Green was... actually another that she talked to. He was hyper and happy, both things she never associated with humans, and so she was curious enough to talk to him. 

Cyan was the rock. The ever calm, ambitious leader that the other humans looked up to. (She found herself baring her neck to him accidentally, found herself falling into old habits of waiting for orders around him.) He was also the person who managed the most chores, as Orange called them. 

And he also was the one, along with Green, who was extremely persistent in getting her to open up. 

Channeling all of her training, Red lifted her lips in what hopefully passed for a human smile. 

“I’m afraid I find no need to make connections with the other... crew mates. I’m here for the job, nothing more.” 

Cyan squinted at her, his head of hair falling smoothly over his shoulder. (and why was the hair long only on their heads? Was it a way of showing off that they could comfortably fight with long hair getting in their faces?) 

“That’s a sad way of looking at things,” he said after a moment of silence, his face contorting into what Red interpreted as something slightly aggressive, “Didn’t you ever dream of being up in the stars as a kid? Why are you even here?” 

Red shivered. His tone was way too light compared to his face, which was all bared teeth and narrowed eyes. She forced herself to relax, to subtly mimic his body language. 

“I’m afraid I’m only in it out of duty,” she admitted, face as expressive as stone, “I find no enjoyment in being here. My... caretakers have wanted me to come here for a long time.” 

There. No lies, only truths that might be interpreted differently. She ignored the voice in her head, the one made of clicks and calls, that told her to strike. To kill. 

They were all alone in electrical. 

Then Cyan’s mouth slipped closed and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head just a bit, and Red flinched. He’d just told her that he was angry. But then his head dropped a bit. He was also... a bit sad? 

Red had learned by now that humans weren’t the monsters of her stories. That didn’t mean she didn’t tense when Cyan put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Cyan cleared his throat. The sound was bone-chilling, and Red tensed even further. He shot her a look she had no way of interpreting. 

“These... caretakers?” He finally said, tone the most hesitant she’d ever heard him, “Who are they?” 

His body language conveyed questions that weren’t voiced, but Red had no idea what they were. Instead, she slowly moved Cyan’s hand away from her shoulder and sighed. The gust of air felt unnatural, like everything in this body. 

“They’re...,” she said, hesitant, “the ones who raised me. They’re important bei— people. They wanted me to come here for a long time, for various reasons.” 

Most of which harm you, she didn’t say. 

Cyan seemed even more conflicted after that. 

Then something in his eyes shifted and he sat a bit straighter. Red shifted away just a tad. (She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t. She was an assassin. She’d killed countless hostile creatures, ones who took one look at her and charged. Killing an aggressive human shouldn’t be different.) 

“Whatever you’ve gone through...,” he said, voice soft, “Whatever you’re still going through. I can help.” 

Red instinctively snorted. As if. Then again....

Why hadn’t she killed the human yet? They were all alone in a secure position. All it would take is slipping one of her many knives into his throat. The thought made her strangely queasy. 

Cyan slipped his hand into hers. 

Red stared. Her human forms’ fingers were intertwined with his. It felt strange, to have his fingers slot perfectly in between hers. It felt strange. But good. 

She tightened her hold on his hand, suddenly scared he’d pull away. He was so gentle. Nothing like her home planets’ inhabitants. Nothing like the rumors about humans. 

She looked up into his eyes, and could understand perfectly the soft kindness there. It took her breath away. 

Cyan shifted a bit closer to her. Red didn’t move. 

“I know I’m just a stranger,” he murmured, just as soft as ever, “And I probably can’t unlock your tragic backstory yet. But. Please let me be your friend?” 

Red couldn’t breathe. 

“I’ve worked so hard to be here. I never imagined I’d actually make it. And now here I am, surrounded by crewmates who also are just as hardworking as me. And then I see you. Who is standoffish and quiet. But who also watches us all like it’s something she’s not a part of.” 

Red can’t breathe. All she can think is of the caretakers’ hard gazes. Their beaks clicking harshly. Telling her that humans would and could kill her at the slightest sign of weakness. Telling her she needed to be the best of the best to even hope to succeed. 

They hadn’t wanted her to succeed. 

“And I see the way she watched everything, with eyes full of wonder and curiosity, and also a bit of fear. And then I’m the one who’s curious. What’s so interesting about normal human interaction? What’s so special about a hug in the cafeteria or a hiccup in the afternoon?” 

Red knew that they didn’t think she’d be able to do it. They hoped she might take down a few humans, sure. But then the rest would find out and give her a swift death, if she was lucky. 

They weren’t actually that concerned about the humans expanding territory. They just wanted the runt of the pack gone. 

She sucked in a shuddering breath, and pulled off her helmet. 

She looked human underneath her helmet of course. That was important. Technically, she was human. She had shifted into one as soon as she’d been given the assignment, forced to get used to this new body and its instincts. Her hair was red, and though she would never admit it that was why she’d decided to have the code name Red, and she had freckles all over her forehead and nose. She’d been modeled after a random human who was meant to actually go on the mission. Her eyes were a greyish green, and she loved their color. 

Humans had pretty eyes. Cyan’s’ were a dark brown, almost black. 

And right now they were blown wide, his teeth bared in what she hoped was a smile. She could never tell. 

Red tried to smile back. It was wobbly. 

“I’d like that. Being your... friend, I mean.” 

She hoped friend meant packmate. 

As soon as the words left her mouth she was engulfed into a hug. Cyan was hugging her much like Green, though his felt tighter, more secure, like the world could fall away and everything would be okay. She could feel a burning build behind her eyes, and she let out a small whimper. 

“It’s going to be okay, Red. It’s going to be okay.” 

And maybe it would be. Maybe she could decide for herself whether or not humans were terrifying predators. Whether or not they were kind. 

But at rate this was going, she’d be a part of their pack soon enough.


End file.
